Wayward
by Yukikaze Luna
Summary: The walls are the protection that keeps the things out. Percy believes that all the small incidents led to the presence of the Outsiders. There are not safe within the walls anymore. When the walls are breached, Percy must discover his true identity as he ventures out into the cruel world where everything he cherish are taken away from him. Can he survive the hunt or will he fall?


**Luna: Wondering why there is a new story so soon? Truth is it just kept bugging me at the back of my mind. It's really annoying because it's hard to write when you keep straying away from the object, so I'm letting this story free. I won't abandon Season Notes nor this. Just hope that you guys can be patient with me because I need to finish my other fiction in another category. But at the same time I'm writing these.**

* * *

Chapter One  
When The Dawn of Winter Comes

It was early winter when the first sign of snow came. The breeze, cold to his cheeks, made him shiver under the thin jacket he wore. He brought his hands together and rubbed them for warmth. It was short live as the air dampen, clouds overhead dangerously shifting closer. It won't take long, he told himself, jogging down the streets to the outskirts of town.

It didn't take long for him to reach the perimeter of the walls. The walls that provided protection from what was out there. There was no need to fear. That phrase had been repeated throughout the years, withholding the hope within the hearts of folks who believed that there was such thing as a happily ever after.

The walls waded the small town in a circle. It rose up high, towering over the government headquarters at the centre of this cage. Cage, he described the word bitterly with distaste. These walls were not their last chance of survival, it was only going to delay the worst to come. At the same time, it wasn't wrong to pray for the lie to be the truth, for the fairytale ending to exist even if they were blinded by the dreams that would remain a fantasy, reality would pull you out.

Reality was always there to tell you that _this is a dream, your pitiful lives are going to end soon. Smile while you can, because that's the most you're going to get when terror strikes. That's right. Forget about what is outside and live on as mice in cages. The cat will act soon. When it's time for the cat to act, you'll squeal like the rats you are. Always the prey, never the predator._

Pretty negative thinking for an optimistic guy. Percy Jackson, the current captain of the swim team in Goode High School, the guy that was famous for what he does, but desperately tries to blend in with the unpopular and popular. His ego wasn't big like the jocks that hung out after school or the nerds that spent every minute of their lives studying for college. He was neutral—in the middle. Where others were black or white, he was gray, always either one and neither one. Always standing up for others and dropping back to the background. He was an enigma that refused to be interpreted. Just the way how he liked things to be.

At the north entrance where there used to be security patrolling day and night to ensure the safety the walls gave was hundred percent, the concrete door was stuck to its hinges, never swinging opened for a step out there. Beside it grew the massy underbrush, the habitat of animals that scuttled past him under the enormous size of leaves. The scrubs were the real deal for the hiding spot of a small window that oversaw the exterior. It wasn't a secret, practically everyone in town knew, but none bothered themselves to take a look.

He took out the flashlight he brought. Night was falling fast with rain approaching, darkness would render him blind. He hated to lose one of his senses, it made him vulnerable and weak. The two things he was behind a mask of bravery and confidence. All his life he thought that fear came from the actions you did, the choices you made. The real fear didn't reside what was outside you, it was the affect your heart went through, the pulse of each beat that sent a burst of adrenaline into his veins. Fear makes you move. Fear gives you energy to act. Fear gives you courage to stand. The words would bring a smile onto his lips. His mother's words were comforting to hear.

He aimed the light at the boughs that bent in an odd angular, the bare wood naked and deprived from its usual gown of fronds. Autumn had stripped their attire away and winter would put them into hibernation until spring would be their alarm clock. Summer would scorch them and the nights would be their time to shine. Seasons past as easily through the peaceful life of the FAYZ, the term that everyone spoke idly of. New york was its previous identity. Maybe it was a joke that came from someone who read the Gone Series by Michael Grant—a small part of the world separated from society where children were casted away to.

Fallout Alley Youth Zone.

Well the 'youth' didn't match what New York was right now. Adults and children still roamed the streets densely. He wouldn't be surprised if anyone past fifteen would be whisked away outside these walls where the world was safe, while the children were left to rot, waiting for their fifteen birthdays to come and throw them into the arms of loved ones.

The small opening containing the panel of glass separating him and the outside world reflected the glow of his flashlight, meekly glowing in contrast to its dark surface. Shinning his flashlight through the glass, he squinted into the semi-darkness, eyes searching for a different scenery, a change in evolution. Nothing. He sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. A drop of liquid wet his nose. He blinked, confused. As he stared up into the swirling clouds, his eye twitched. Great.

* * *

Percy was drenched by the time he stepped onto the even cut lawn, the flower pots lined the front porch, white flowers sprouting over lobed leaves, the scent of strawberries wafted into his senses when he stood on the welcome mat. Behind him, the sound of raindrops fell in a heap of buckets, soaking the back of his shirt further. He put in the spare key, twisted the doorknob, his head poked into the house to scan for his parents. His mother was busy preparing dinner from the sounds of cutlery and his father was probably by the kitchen table grading papers.

Peeking an eye into the kitchen, he found them where he wanted them. He crept up the stairs into his room, closing the door with minimum noise. Once again, he allowed himself to proudly praise himself for cunning activity. He tossed his wet shirt, jacket and pants into the pile of dirty laundry by the basket, noting that he should do his laundry after dinner. He took a quick shower, putting on a black T-shirt and a pair of shorts. He rubbed his aching neck, his fingers felt the rigid muscles under his nape.

Checked himself in the mirror, he padded into the kitchen, his face neutral. Sally was in the middle of stirring a pot of beef stew and Paul was reading through the essays, a red pen in his hand. The duo looked up when he entered the kitchen, Sally giving him a pleasant smile while Paul returned to his work after greeting him.

"Percy, I heard that new members have joined the swim team," Sally said, smoothing out the wrinkles on her apron. She had her brown hair in a bun, few strands sticking out onto her face as she added a bowl of onions into the frying pan of spinach. "Is it true that they will be replacing the seniors in the relay team?"

"Yeah. A lot of the guys complained about swimming in cold water isn't the brightest idea in the book, so the rookies decided to step up, take their places until they are cool with the idea. I'm guessing we're going to compete without the seniors which is a huge problem unless we find the new recruits to be on the same level as them."

Paul nodded, twirling the pen in his hand. "I've been receiving a lot of club registration forms on my desk recently. Could be that the swim team did a direct approach and want an immediate confirmation."

"Since when have you taken a liking into swimming," Sally teased, beaming at Paul's rolled eyes. "I thought I picture you as the biggest nerd in Goode."

Percy tuned out their conversation, uncomfortable with the openly flirting. He wondered whether he would find a girl ideal for him, a girl that he was willing to lay down his life for. Cheerleaders weren't his type, neither was any of them. He would just have to wait for the right one to come. The right girl to be with for the rest of his life. Paul left the dining room to finish off some work and asked us to go ahead and eat without him first. He was alone with his mom. She was silent for the whole time, her concentration focused on her hands. He watched her cook, taking in the way she weaved around the kitchen, dancing a pattern he soon trailed after.

"I know you went by the walls again," she said after a while, her back to him, the tap water pouring over her hands. Percy winced at her tone, so dead and emotionless he thought that every word she spoke drained the colour from her cheeks. His reply was a low mumble. "Percy, I've told you many times to never go near the walls anymore. There's nothing to see right over there."

"Then why bother worrying?" It came out harsher than he thought, but either she was oblivious or she chose to ignore it, because she turned back with a stern expression that rivaled his disciplin teacher. "Sorry."

She dried her hands on a paper towel, her eyes showed a sort of fear he came to associate when he always brought up the topic of the outside world. She bit her bottom lip. "I want you to be safe when the inevitable happens. I don't want you in harm's way."

Percy sighed. "Mom, nothing is going to happen. We're safe as long as we're within these walls, right? I'm not going to get mauled over by a demon. I've seen these creatures, Mom, there're not as dangerous as you think with all of these"—he gestured around—"and besides, nothing change much except more of them wandering around. You think they would start playing poker out there?"

Sally paled a few shades lighter. "Percy, this is not funny. Tell me they didn't see you."

"Mom—"

"Answer the question, Perseus." His mother would only use his full name when the matter was serious. Apparently, this _was_ serious.

He thought back to last spring when the rain poured down in showers, the thunderstorm rolling in in huge mass of black clouds, lightning flashing above in statics. He remembered stuffing his backpack under the untrimmed bushes, sneaking in from the other end of the forest to avoid the bystanders. As he stood in his usual spot, peeking in through the small opening, the clearing of the woods outside was void of creatures. He remembered his curiosity had taken over, and he had done something foolish as to slide the glass to the side, letting about two-thirds of it disappeared.

His head had went further in. It was an instant when lightning cracked and he was faced with a gaping mouth, blood gushing out from its jaws, its empty sockets squinted at him through slits. It lashed out, its tentacle arms wrapped around his throat. He had choked and sputtered, his vision darkening in spots. He had tried to claw the thing away from his throat, but it only tightened persistently around his throat. He had cried out for help into the swaying trees, the storm brewing intensely above him in furious sparks of electricity. He had thought his last moments was an amazing fireworks display. If it weren't for the hairbrush that sliced off its hold on him, he would have died that day.

Despite the memory, he lied, "No. They never saw me."

* * *

The courtyard was packed the minute Percy marched into the campus. He saw the classrooms were empty through the glass windows. Students milled the area in groups of their own. His eyes skimmed the place for teachers to hurdle the students back into class, but found none on sight. He spotted a familiar redhead with paint splattered jeans and the Art Studio T-shirt she wore. She was in front of the noticeboard, newcomers were the same as they gathered around her.

"Rachel, what's going on?"

Rachel's green eyes met his. She was as confused as he was, her painting supplies sticking out her unzipped backpack. She shouldered out of the crowd, dusting her hands on her jeans. "There was a power failure. The teachers are looking into it. Classes are starting at five in the evening. Probably by then, the electricity comes back on. For now, we can go back and come back for night classes. They should be backing up a generator for the night."

Percy nodded. This wasn't the first time the power had failed them. When the power clicks off, classes will be move to the night, where darkness consumes the world in shadows. The moon hangs above the clouds, sometimes whole, sometimes missing a single part. It was the kind of horror movie every kid was anticipating—werewolves, vampires, big foot. Night was easier for the jocks to sneak out with their cheerleaders in arms, making out in the most secluded places. It irked him to walk the halls at night for his next class, coincidently walking by covered-up make-out sessions he did want no part of it. Even Rachel grimaced at the way sounds travelled quietly through thin walls.

"Rachel!" A boy shouted at the end of the crowd. Percy recognized him from the volunteer art projects Rachel did for the elementary kids because school was cutting art out from the subjects which saddened him with the creativity kids these days had. He smiled sheepishly at Percy, as if he was around a celebity he wasn't worthy of interacting with.

"What's wrong, Sam?" Rachel asked, snapping him out of his reverie. She sent Percy a glare as if it was his fault her friend lost focus.

"Sorry." His face went serious. "You've got to check this out." He pulled Rachel to the back of the school, Percy followed silently behind. "It's wicked, dude," he said, adressing Percy with the last sentence, "you won't believe what you see. It's about the things outside the walls."

Rachel and Percy exchanged a look. Even without an explanation, they understood what he was saying. Sam knew about Percy's wild fascination of the outside world. Anything concerning it earned his fullest attention, and Sam was delighted to provide information. They snuck past the teachers on duty and made their way to the fuse box at the end of the first hallway. With a little help from tools, Sam took the lid out. What greeted their sight was the most disgusting substance Percy had ever witnessed. It looked like moss, at the same time it reminded him of insect guts, purplish black and sticky.

Rachel wrinkled her nose at the stench. "That's really gross, Sam. I can't believe you dragged us all the way here for this. We'll get detention for nothing."

"Whoa, slow down there, Rachel. I know it's gross—that's the point! I took a sample of it and got Xander to study it. He said it was the same genetic sample we got last time." He sounded excited at the topic. Percy didn't know it was for his sake or his own developing interest, either was enough to satisfy him with the answer. "How can _this_ turn up here without any involvement with the Outsiders?"

"Sam, don't be ridiculous! This has nothing to do with them. Maybe it's animal spit or someone is pulling up a prank," Rachel reasoned with a scowl. "Don't give him anymore ideas. You're going to get him kill one day."

Percy was ready to protest. Rachel didn't need to be so harsh towards Sam. He didn't get to say a word before Rachel wrapped an arm around his neck and grabbed Sam's ear, they took a shortcut by the laboratory, Sam whining the whole way. Back at the entrance, they said goodbye to Sam who was reluctant to leave, but did so anyway to avoid Rachel's wrath. "Come on, Aqua Boy, I'm not going to ruin all your fun."

* * *

They were back where it all started. Rachel sat down by the roots, her sketchpad propped out with her knees as she began to draw with a mechanical pencil. Percy was by the opening again, looking out into the clearing of a forest. Rachel recalled back to the night where she had been returning home from a storm, her feet taking her down to a shortcut by the undergrowth of the north entrance. Imagined how shocked she was to find a tentacle arm choking a boy behind the cluster of dancing shadows. Her first instinct was to throw something, so she used her hairbrush, which was not a great idea, but was the only object in her mind. She didn't think she could get a clean hit until the hairbrush had torn through it.

The air had been filled with agonizing shrieks from the demon. The boy dropped onto the ground, wheezing and greedily gulping in air. Her mind had been clouded with questions. How did the Outsiders get in? Her eyes had caught the small opening, the glass was missing. She had ran forward, grabbed her hairbrush and scratched the arm trying to slitter down. Using the diversion, she plunged her hand into the opening and pulled the glass back into place. Not much heroism, but it would have to do with her timing.

She saw Percy staring out into space. "What are you thinking?"

"Recalling moments of our intimidating meeting. Nice throw by the way. Figure the monster was having a bad hair day. I guess a stylist had a great timing arriving before his big day," Percy said, grinning.

She twirled a finger around her hair, fondly recalling their first meeting. "My aim _was_ good. I didn't know whether it would do what it did. Hey, miracles do happen."

"Well, you make them—" Percy stopped, whipping his head back to the opening.

Startled by his abrupt pause, her voice came out as a whisper. "Why? What's wrong?"

Percy lifted a finger up to his lips. He crawled forward cautiously and peeked in with an eye. "Someone's out there."


End file.
